


Snapshot

by Airl0ck



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chloe and Max are strangers, F/F, Photography, Semi-adult AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 00:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12899772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airl0ck/pseuds/Airl0ck
Summary: Max has worked hard to get where she is. She's not about to let a pair of pretty faces interrupt that. Really.





	Snapshot

Working with Rachel Amber was like a dream for Max Caulfield. Not only was the blonde a gorgeous and well-known model, but she was also professional, accommodating, and hardworking. She made it clear that she really wanted to be there. If only all models were so easy to handle.

It didn't help that Max’s people skills rivaled those of a rock that lived under another, equally awkward rock.

Rachel stretched out languidly on the chaise lounge for the shot, wearing a flowing black dress and elegant eye makeup that gave her an ephemeral look, like something out of a dream. From her crouched position, the photographer couldn't help but think that she barely had to do anything. The model was already a work of art all on her own.

 _Your gay is showing, Caulfield,_ a voice in the back of her head chimed in. A voice that sounded suspiciously like her ex, Victoria Chase.

Standing up, Max brushed off her slacks to straighten them back out. She was wearing what she referred to as her ‘work uniform’; slacks, button-down shirt, vest and tie. Soft-butch, Victoria would call it. Of course, she wore a pair of comfy black converse instead of fancier footwear. Dress shoes were not a Max Caulfield thing.

After snapping a few more shots with her expensive new camera - a far cry from her treasured Polaroid, but not every shoot could be so vintage - she checked the images, nodding approvingly.

“I think I got everything I need. You can relax,” the photographer said, and her model sat up, stretching her arms over head, suddenly looking much more like a real human being as she dropped out of posing mode.

Standing and casually making her way into Max’s space, Rachel peered over the photographer’s shoulder. “Can I see?” She asked in a quiet voice.

The moment felt strangely intimate to Max, the elegant woman close enough that she could feel her warmth and her breath on her ear. “Y-yeah, of course,” she stuttered, then cursed internally. _Stop reading into things, Max. This isn't weird. Don't make it weird! Be professional._

As she flipped through the shots, showing them to Rachel, her mind drifted to places that were decidedly not professional, like the cliche of photographers sleeping with their models, and how she had been single for almost a year.

“Oh, these are _good._ I knew that working with you was going to be a real pleasure.” Rachel's proximity and soft, whispered words were doing nothing to alleviate the pressure on Max's mind, and when the model’s hand came to rest on her arm, she jolted away awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah, you too! I mean, you're a really good model, and it was good for me too…” Max cringed at her phrasing and ran a hand through her messy brown hair nervously. Rachel just seemed amused, a little smirk gracing her lips. _Stop being a tragic gay disaster, Max._

Thankfully a distraction arrived in the form of a stranger wandering into the studio. Max was momentarily dumbfounded, not having expected anyone else, but Rachel smiled and flounced across the room, away from Max and toward the newcomer.

“Hey, babe!” The model leapt upon the stranger, a blue-haired punk wearing ratty clothes, and laid a kiss on her lips, before turning back to a confused-looking Max. “Oh, I asked Chloe to come pick me up. Sorry, I should have told you! I didn't think she'd be here this early, but you said we were done for the day, right?”

“Uh, right,” Max replied intelligently.

Rachel turned to give Chloe another kiss, then pulled away. “I gotta get changed and wash this junk off my face. Wait here, okay?”

“Sure, babe. Don't take too long, huh?” The punk grabbed Rachel's arm and pulled her in for a third kiss, before letting her leave the room.

And then Max was left alone with a total stranger. The photographer fidgeted anxiously as silence fell over the room. The other woman didn't seem bothered though, standing with her hands in her pockets, gazing off after her apparent girlfriend, a small, wistful smile on her face.

Max’s eyes flicked between the punk and her camera, trying not to get caught looking at her. It was hard not to, though, since she was so gorgeous, in a rough, raw sort of way. From the tattered beanie hugging her skull, to the studded leather jacket, torn jeans, and shitkicker boots, she was every inch the anarchist princess. But beyond just the hair and the clothes, she held herself with a confidence that was foreign to Max, clearly more comfortable in her skin than the brunette would ever be.

Struck by an impulse, Max’s camera was up before she could stop herself.

 _CHKK_!

Confused, the punk turned to look at Max, catching her red-handed. The brunette flushed deeply as she realized just how much of a creep she was being. “Dude, did you just…?”

“S-sorry! Dog, that was so… You were just… I mean, taking pictures is kinda my thing and you're really… Sorry,” Max fumbled, then shuffled awkwardly over to a table and set her camera down, wiping her palms on her slacks in what she hoped was a subtle way.

By this point, Chloe was smirking, clearly amused by the shorter woman's antics. She strolled over toward Max, her heavy boots clomping on the floor. “Well, if someone's gonna be creeping on me, at least she's a cutie. I'm Chloe Price. And you're Max Caulfield, right?” She offered her hand out to shake.

Max's blush deepened as she dumbly took the extended hand. At the contact, a frisson of electricity shot through the photographer, and her gaze locked on the punk’s clear blue eyes. Rational thought evacuated her head and all she could do was marvel at the softness of Chloe's hand and her slender fingers.

A moment passed, and Max realized she hadn't responded. _Augh, brain damaged much?_

“Yeah, uh, that's me. How’d you know?”

Stepping closer, Chloe's smirk grew into a grin. “Rachel basically hasn't been talking about anything else for the last week. She was freaking out over getting to work with you. Big fan of your work, I guess. If you ask me, she might have a bit of a crush.” She punctuated her statement with a wink.

Max blinked. “... Oh.” Wait, had Rachel really been flirting with her before? Was Chloe flirting with her now? _And am I flirting back? They're girlfriends! I shouldn't be flirting with either of them! Stop flirting, Max!_

Realizing that she was still holding onto Chloe's hand, the photographer pulled away with a jerk. “Um, sorry. And I don't know why anyone would be crushing on me. I'm pretty much the living definition of awkward, if you hadn't noticed.”

The punk shook her head at that. “Nah, it's cute. I can see why she'd be into you.”

Why were they still talking about this? They should not be talking about this! “Are you a model?” Max asked out of the blue, trying to change the topic.

Chloe's eyebrows shot up at that, and then she burst into laughter. “Nah, I don't have the patience for that shit. Sitting still for hours while people take pictures of you? Not my scene.”

“That's too bad, you're... really gorgeous,” Max said, and then immediately felt like kicking herself. What happened to not flirting anymore?

The punk tilted her head, still smirking. “Well, if you were the one taking the pictures, I might be up for it.”

“Uh, that'd be… That'd be cool. I'd like that,” the photographer stumbled.

“I'll get your number from Rachel and we'll make it happen.” 

As if summoned by the sound of her name, the model appeared at Chloe's side. “I see you two are getting along. What're you talking about?” Gone was the heavy makeup and black dress, traded in for a flannel, t-shirt, and ripped jeans. Seeing them standing next to each other like this, Max couldn't help but think that they made an attractive couple.

“Max here wants to take pictures of me. She thinks I'm gorgeous,” the punk stated smugly, to Max's continued embarrassment.

“Oh yeah? Lucky you,” was Rachel's response, and again the photographer found herself at a loss. Shouldn't she be… Jealous or something? Why was she okay with this? The model reached forward to put her hand on Max's arm, giving a little squeeze. “Same time tomorrow for the next part of the shoot, right?”

Max nodded dumbly, and Rachel gave her a winning smile. “See you then.” Taking Chloe by the hand, she led her girlfriend out of the studio, leaving Max standing there staring vacantly.

_What the heck just happened?_

**Author's Note:**

> Meadows beta'd, all failures are mine. Hope y'all enjoyed it. I may continue this, at some point, but don't hold your breath.


End file.
